Consigned to Oblivion
by RemainPhoenyxx
Summary: When a powerful blood magic ritual imprisons Hawke in the realm of a sloth demon, Fenris leads Varric and Aveline into the Fade after her. However, rescuing Hawke and escaping the Fade proves to be a dangerous quest when they are confronted with the manifestations of Hawke's darkest emotions. f!Hawke/Fenris.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** Welcome to my first dalliance with fan fiction for over a year! I hope you enjoy this multi-chaptered adventure. I don't own the wonderful characters of the Dragon Age universe, but enjoy playing with them and will put them back neatly when I've finished. Please leave a review to let me know what you think!

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**Consigned to Oblivion**

**Chapter 1**

Hightown was dark and gloomy under the overcast sky. There was a sense of foreboding in the air. The people were absent from the street due to the late hour., and only a few guards patrolled the richest part of Kirkwall, They patrolled in pairs, never straying too far from each other or the safety of a street lamps. The eerie atmosphere had even forced the small group of whores who plied their trade in the Red Lantern District to seek refuge within the Blooming Rose.

Four robed figures silently made their way up the stairs that lead to the Hightown estates. They had expertly plotted their movement through the city to ensure that no one saw them, and using their dark arts to distract and manipulate where necessary. It would do no good to be caught and have the Templars brought down upon them before their task was complete.

They gathered in the courtyard outside the abandoned Tethras estate. Rumour had it's previous owner, Bartrand Tethras, had gone insane and killed most of his household before being committed to an asylum. There had been rumours strange goings on in the house in the years that followed, with activity reaching it's pinnacle over the past two months. None had dared enter the house, with exception of Rose Hawke, the famous Champion of Kirkwall.

It was Hawke whom the four mages sought, but not to enlist her aid. They had something much more sinister in mind - a revenge plot and a blood magic ritual.

A patron of the Hanged Man who was well into his cups had informed them that the Champion would be at the Tethras estate that very evening. She would be accompanying her friend Varric Tethras, the younger brother of the unfortunate Bartrand, to investigate the reported paranormal activity. Such a chance to complete their assignment was not to be ignored. Though it would have been easier to wait to ambush the Champion outside the city, the blood mages were instructed to complete the deed as soon as possible by their employer.

They set their trap at the bottom of the stairwell that lead up to the Tethras estate. A hex of forbidding was cast across the square, encouraging the guards on patrol to leave the area and stay away. Palms were cut and bled into a large basin, which already contained a black, tar-like substance. All it would take to complete the cursing ritual was a final offering of blood and some spoken words. A task that fell to the leader of the group. He stood in the shadows and cast an invisibility spell upon himself. The sound of the estate door opening was the cue for the other blood mages to get into position for the ambush and wait for the right moment to strike.

Hawke huffed a huge sigh as she and her companions exited the house. They paused at the top of the stairs and took a moment to rest. She'd seen a lot of things in her time, but an Ethereal Golem was a new one for her journal. She hoped she had done the right thing in letting Varric keep hold of the piece of the red lyrium that was at the centre of all the trouble. It was all that as left of the Idol that they had found in the Deep Roads several years earlier. Bartrand had broke it up and sold it on, but had kept one piece of it for himself. Anders hadn't agreed with her decision, but seemed placated when she requested that Varric ask Sandal to have a look at the stone before he did anything with it.

Varric approached her, visibly unsettled. It was hardly surprising after what they had encountered in the house. "Hawke," he said. "This is awkward, but ..." He stopped and scratched the back of his neck, not sure what to say.

"You! Lost for words. I should mark this day on my calendar," Hawke chuckled.

"Enjoy this while it lasts. It might never happen again." He was solemn and sincere, which was very out of character for the normally wise-cracking dwarf. "Look, I just wanted to say it's been an honour knowing you."

Hawke frowned. "Are you about to die? Am I? Why so serious all of a sudden?"

"Don't panic. I just needed to get that off my chest. You know it's six years today? Six years since I found you dragging your tail out of Bartrand's office."

"It's incredible how times flies when you're having fun," she reflected. Fun was certainly one way to describe the seven years that she had spent in Kirkwall.

"Tell me about it! How about we all head to the Hanged Man, have a few rounds and toast to whatever comes next?" Varric was starting to sound like his usual, charming self again, and this made Hawke smile.

"I like this plan. Shall we?" Hawke gestured to the stairway before the takes the first steps down with Varric and Fenris by her side.

Anders remained motionless. His hackles were up. Something didn't feel right "Wait!" He called after the others, causing them to halt abruptly halfway down the steps. "I sense foul magic in the air," he said nervously.

"Blood mages?" asked Hawke, his disquiet putting her on alert. She drew her daggers and flattened herself against the wall, and gestured that the others do the same.

"Crimson Weavers? I thought we got rid of those thugs?" whispered Varric, loading Bianca with a fresh magazine of bolts.

Hawke didn't reply, her mind formulating a plan. At the bottom of the stairway was a blind corner to the right. From her viewpoint, she had no way to see what could be lurking beyond it. They would have a better chance of preventing an ambush if she scouted ahead. She descended the steps quietly and, using the blade of one of her daggers as a mirror, peered round the corner. Seeing no one in the immediate vicinity, she chose to proceed but remained cautious.

"Be ready," she warned her companions before she stepped out of cover and advanced a few paces into the open.

Anders, directly behind her, followed Hawke's lead and looked round the corner. He saw something that made him cry "WATCH OUT!" after her, but it was too late. Her foot came into contact with the faint glow of a magical trap on the ground in front of her, triggering the spell. Enveloped by a flash of white-blue light, she couldn't move nor speak. She could only watch as three robed figures emerged from the shadows and began advancing on her. Anders, Fenris and Varric immediately abandoned cover and formed a battle line in front of Hawke, ready for a fight.

The first attack came from the blood mage on the left flank, who conjured a stone projectile and aimed it at Fenris. Anders threw up a defensive barrier in time to prevent the Tevinter elf from being struck in the chest. When the barrier dropped, Fenris retaliated. He charged forward, swinging his mighty sword at his would-be attacker. The blood mage dodged, but the tip of the heavy blade caught his shoulder, opening a long gash and drawing blood. Unrelenting, Fenris pivoted left and used the momentum to swing his sword, bringing it crashing into the side of blood mage's torso. The blood mage screamed in agony as the great-sword sliced through flesh and bone, splattering blood across the pavement. He fell to the ground, dead.

The blood mage on the right flank conjured a large fire ball and hurled it at Anders. The former Grey Warden neutralized it in mid-air with a powerful ice spell. Flourishing his staff, he shot one, two, three energy bolts at the blood mage. The mage dodged two bolts and deflected the third before retaliating with another fire ball. Anders tried to dodged, but wasn't fast enough. The projectile made contact with his hip, setting his robe alight. The shock made him drop his staff. As he frantically beat at the spreading flames, the blood mage charged him, striking Anders several times with heavy blows from his staff. Anders backed off, beating out the last of fire. He scowled down at the blackened fabric of his robe.

"This was my favourite robe!" Anders lunged forward, tackling the blood mage and forcing him to drop his staff in the scuffle. The two men rolled around of the pavement, punching, scratching, spitting, kicking. The blood mage pinned Anders to the ground, closed his hands around his neck and began to squeeze hard. Anders struggled to breath, and tried to throw the blood mage off without success. In desperation, he wriggled his leg free and delivered a sharp knee to the blood mage's groin. The mage squealed loudly, the shock and pain forcing him to let go. Anders used the opportunity to roll away and retrieve his staff. The blood mage, still distracted, didn't see Anders conjure a huge shard of ice and throw it toward him. The shard impaled the blood mage through his torso. Wide-eyed, blood spilling forward his mouth, he fell to the ground.

Varric took on the blood mage on point, releasing a smoke grenade to disorientate him whilst he moved out of spell range. With Bianca poised, Varric shot several bolts at the reeling blood mage. One bolt struck him in the left knee, whilst the others missed their mark. The blood mage yanked out the bolt, throwing it to the ground in irritation. He then summoned a stone projectile and sent it hurtling towards Varric.

The dwarf dodged to the right, but was not fast enough. The stone clipped his shoulder, knocking him to the ground with Bianca just out of reach. As the mage was about to unleash another damaging spell, a gauntleted hand reached through his chest and pulled out his heart. The blood mage collapsed to reveal Fenris standing behind him.

Varric signed with relief. "Consider yourself on my tab for the rest of the year, elf." He winced and clutched his limp shoulder as he tried to stand up. "Hey Blondie," he shouted to Anders. "Little help?"

"I'll see to Hawke," Fenris said, as Anders began attending to Varric's dislocated shoulder. He could see that the paralysis hex was beginning to wear off as he approached.

"Is that all of them?" she asked him, shaking off the stiffness in her limbs as she gradually regained movement.

"I believe so. Are you alright?" said Fenris, concern in his tone.

"My pride is a little bruised. I'll have to remember to look down next time," Hawke joked. Fenris made a face that told her that he didn't think it was funny. "Really, Fenris. I'm fine. Stop worrying," she said, placing her hand on his shoulder and squeezing gently.

Since their brief romance three years earlier, Fenris had become very protective of her. There were times (such as that moment) when Hawke thought that they could rekindle what they'd shared, but Fenris had given her no indication that he was ready or willing to resume from where they had left off. She cared for Fenris. His leaving had broken her heart, but until he could come to terms with his past, there could be nothing between them.

"Not our usual brand of blood mages. Aren't there usually shades and other demonic beings?" Varric winced as Anders gently worked the bone back into it's socket.

Hawke raised an eyebrow. "Don't you think we've had enough exercise for one evening?" she asked sarcastically.

"Hey, I'm not complaining!" protested Varric. "Just making an observation."

"Something still doesn't feel right." murmured Anders. "I can't put my finger on it, but I've got a bad feeling ..."

"Don't say that, Blondie," interrupted Varric. "Every time someone says something that, bad stuff happ- YEEEEOOOOW! " Anders responded by applying more pressure than necessary to the dislocation.

The blood mage leader looked out from his hiding place, observing the four friends as they bantered. His brothers had been slain, but he still lived. The ritual had to be completed, and he had to act while they were distracted. Removing a dagger from his robes, he brought it swiftly across his arm, spilling blood into the prepared basin. He murmured a few words in the Tevinter tongue and the concoction in the basin began to bubble before glowing crimson red.

Hawke felt a chill run down her spine. She had no time to react as a powerful force struck, dragging her towards the mage and lifting her a few feet from the ground.

"HAWKE!" Fenris rushed to help her, but was repelled violently by an invisible force.

Anders tried and failed to dispel the barrier, depleting his mana in the process, but the magic was too strong for him. Along with Fenris and Varric, could only stare helplessly at the scene unfolding before them.

Hawke thrashed wildly within her confinement, trying to free herself. She stopped struggled when she saw the blood mage leader step out of his hiding place. Swirls of blood red, mauve and black smoke flowed from the basin he held in his hands. He ignored the shouts of Hawke's companions, his attention only on her. "Not so fast, Champion of Kirkwall!" he said. "YOU have powerful enemies. YOU have involved yourself in matters that do not concern you. My brothers and I were sent to remove you from the game."

"So you're here to kill me by talking me to death?" Hawke taunted.

"Kill you?" The blood mage began to laugh menacingly. An unnatural wind began to blow, and the sky turned black-red. "Who said anything about killing you?"

The blood mage leader uttered more words in Tevinter. Varric asked Fenris what he was saying, but the elf did not respond as he watched in horror as Hawke was enveloped by a bright light. The anguished scream of the Champion could be heard from within. Suddenly the light flashed and something tore free from Hawke's body. When the light disappeared, they could see four spectres floating around Hawke. Each one was tinted a different colour - yellow, red, blue and white – and all had physical characteristics that resembled Hawke.

The blood mage leader spoke, "These are your deepest fears, your darkest emotions. Even now they are tearing you apart. They shall continue to feast upon your soul 'till the last spark of life has been extinguished and you are nought but an empty husk!" He then slashed his own throat with the dagger. As the blood spurted from his jugular, a maelstrom of chaos surrounded Hawke and himself. The ground shook and opened to release the dark, slug-like form of a sloth demon.

Fenris couldn't stand to watch anymore. He broke away from Anders and Varric and rushed the barrier again, attempting phase through it. He pushed forward with all his might, his entire body becoming nearly transparent. As he succeeded in forcing one arm through the barrier, he could feel the magic reacting with the lyrium beneath his skin. The sensation was excruciating, forcing Fenris to pull away with a roar of pain and frustration. Feeling suddenly weakened, he collapsed to his knees. Varric and Anders ran to his side, but he weakly raised his good arm to point at the sloth demon. Varric was aghast, whilst Anders felt the anger of Justice flood through him. He almost lost control of himself when they heard the sloth demon speak.

"With the final sacrifice of blood, the pact is sealed. The sentries are posted, the prison complete."

There was another flash of light, forcing them to shield their eyes and turn away. The light quickly faded and the sloth demon was no where in sight.

Hawke was lying on the ground, not moving.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Ignoring the throbbing pain in his burnt arm, Fenris rushed to Hawke's side, Varric and Anders close behind. He fell to his knees beside her, frantically searching for any signs of life.

Anders knelt beside him. "Let me see to her."

Fenris acquiesced without protest, wincing as he moved aside. He was grateful when Varric handed him a healing potion from his belt pouch. Drinking it fast, he instantly felt the pain lessen. It would have to do for the time being. His concern at that moment was only for Hawke. He watched anxiously. "Can you heal her?"

"This is blood magic, Fenris. I doubt it will be as simple as that." Anders spoke no more, his brow furrowed in concentration, his hands tinged in the bluish-green light of healing magic. "Her heartbeat is faint," he said, "and she's still breathing. I need to get her somewhere comfortable. I can't work here without drawing attention to myself."

"After that magic show, you can be sure that the Templars will come sniffing around soon," agreed Varric. "Fenris, your place is nearby. We'll take her there."

Anders was about to lift Hawke into his arms when Fenris stopped him.

"I will carry her," he insisted.

Anders frowned. "With your arm in that state?"

"I've had worse."

"At least let me heal you first."

Fenris shook his head. He wasn't willing to let Anders waste power on him, not when Hawke was in such a bad way. "I can wait."

Anders sighed and relented. "Fine."

Fenris knelt and lifted Hawke into his arms, cradling her against his chest. He then led the way to the abandoned mansion where he made his home.

"I'm gonna go give Aveline a heads up about the dead blood mages, you know, before the Templars get there first," said Varric, as they reached the main door to the mansion.

"Good idea," agreed Anders. "Get Merrill too. She might be able to help."

Varric nodded, before walking away briskly. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Take care of Hawke," he said as he disappeared around a corner.

Inside the mansion, Hawke was taken to Fenris's room and laid down on the bed. After removing Hawke's armour and boots, Anders suggested that Fenris to wait by the fire so he could work without interruption. He gave the elf another healing potion to drink before turning his attention to Hawke.

He began by checking her life signs once again. Her heartbeat was still weak, but had not worsened since they moved her. Her breathing was slow and shallow, as if she were in a deep sleep. Once her condition was established, he went to work, attempting to fix the damage that had been done.

At first he tried to dispel the curse, but found the spell to be more draining than it should. Anders felt as if he was trying to swim against a fast-moving current. He took a lyrium potion from his pouch and downed it, then resumed. He called upon a spell that could bring a person out of unconsciousness, with the same effect. He drank a second potion and began to call upon every healing spell that he had ever learned.

The first light of day could be seen creeping over the horizon when Anders, exhausted and slightly addled from lyrium, approached the bench where Fenris was sitting and watching. The mage sat down heavily next to him and sighed in frustration. "I've tried everything I can think of. There's nothing more I can do, at least until Varric returns with Merrill." He yawned heavily. "I need to rest. Is there anywhere you would prefer me to sleep?"

Loath as he was to permit the abomination to remain in his house, Fenris knew he was the only person who could help Hawke if her condition deteriorated. "The next room, on your left. There's a bed in there."

Anders nodded in gratitude before leaving the elf alone. "Call for me if anything changes."

Fenris waited until the door to the adjoining room clicked shut before he returned to Hawke's side. Pulling up a chair to sit beside her, he tenderly brushed away a few strands of hair that had fallen across her face. She looked so serene. He could remember only one other time that he had seen her look so peaceful - the night he left her, a little over three years earlier. Memories of that night stirred a yearning within him, along with a deep sense of regret. She had looked so beautiful, curled up against him, a light sheen of sweat glistening across her nude body after they had made love.

He leaned over her, a hand gently caressing her cheek. "Don't leave me," he pleaded, before brushing his lips against hers.

* * *

___Tenders kisses caressed his mouth, his neck, and his ears. To have her in his arms, to be joined with her brought him a happiness he thought he would never know. He took her slowly, wanting the sensation to last as long as possible._

___He felt overwhelmed with pleasure as she rolled them over and sat astride him, sinking onto him. He gripped the sheets as she began rolling her hips against his, arching her back as she cried out his name in pleasure..._

Fenris woke with a start and looked, bleary-eyed, at his surroundings. He wasn't in Hawke's room, but his own. He had fallen asleep in the chair with Hawke's hand clasped in his. She was still sleeping. He tenderly kissed her palm as he released her hand and settled it across her chest.

The fire was beginning to go out, making the room chilly. He wandered over to the hearth, took the poker and began coaxing the embers back to life. It was a good enough distraction whilst he waited for Varric to return.

A short time later, he heard the main door to the mansion open and close again, followed by the familiar voice of the dwarf. He went out onto the landing to greet them. Merrill looked tired, her hair tousled from sleep. In her arms, she carried a rectangular object that was wrapped in a thick cloth. Aveline was more alert, with a concerned look painted across her face. She also carried something with her – the basin that Fenris recognised from the blood magic ritual, though why it had been brought along was a mystery to him.

"Where's Sebastian?" he asked, noticing that the Prince of Starkhaven was nowhere to be seen.

"Ansburg," she said. "He left a few days ago. How is she?" That Aveline should display such heavy concern demonstrated to Fenris that she was as terrified as he at the thought of losing Hawke.

"There has been no change," he said, as he led them into the room. All eyes were immediately on the sleeping woman on the bed.

"Where's Anders?" asked Merrill.

"Asleep in the next room. He needed to rest."

"Maybe you should wake him. I might need his help," she suggested.

Varric volunteered to wake the mage and left the room, returning promptly with a sleepy Anders shambling behind him. He sat down heavily on one of the benches and rubbed his eyes, yawning deeply. Whilst he pulled himself around, Varric and Fenris explained, in detail, everything that had happened in the Hightown Estates.

By the time they were finished, Anders was awake enough to inject his own comments. "The ritual was unlike anything I've ever seen," he said, "and I saw some pretty weird things during in my time in the Wardens. I've tried every healing incantation I can think of. I don't know what else I can do."

"Well, it's my turn to try," said Merrill, sitting down cross-legged next to the bed. Fenris was surprised that the Dalish mage was willing to help. Her relationship with Hawke was strained at best, due to their differing opinions regarding Merrill's obsession with restoring a cursed mirror. He watched her closely as she began her examination of Hawke. Despite knowing and traveling with Merrill for the past six years, he still did not trust her.

Merrill carefully unwrapped the object she had been carrying, revealing a thick, tattered book.

"What's the book, Daisy?" asked Varric.

"When I was the Keeper's First, I made sure that I wrote down everything that I had learned. I always thought of it as my contribution to preserving our clan's history, but now..." Her voice trailed off and she gently caressed the leather-bound cover. Varric let her be. It had only been a couple of weeks since Keeper Marathari had died and Merrill's clan had exiled her.

Merrill opened the book and spent a few moments leafing through the pages until she found the passage she was looking for. She shifted position, kneeling with the book in one hand and the other hovering over Hawke's still form. She began to chant softly in what the rest of the group could only assume was Elvhen:

_"Amin kelma tuulo' Sylaise a' tuuva i' nwayla yassene sina inya. Lotesse lirva tela ar' quel almare entulesse. Mirima e loome, nai i kalya engwa tyar i ulka."*_

She repeated the same phrase over and over again, her eyes closed in concentration. Suddenly she fell silent, her body rigid. The atmosphere in the room tensed. All eyes were on Merrill, waiting to see what would happen next.

Using Hawke as a focus, Merrill felt the presence of a demon lingering and followed it into a trance state. As she followed it deeper into the Fade, she was met with a vision of the familiar landscape of Ferelden. A short distance away was a large iron gate with a heavy fog concealing what lay beyond. Near to the gate, she could see a little girl with black hair playing on her own. Merrill took a few steps toward the girl when, suddenly, the landscape around her changed.

The sky darkened, the wind began to blow sharply and she saw the little girl running away from the gate. As she was about to follow, Merrill felt glued to the spot and surrounded by four ghostly figures that resembled Hawke. Each had an intense aura of emotion encompassing them. She could sense doubt, desire, fury and despair. As each sensation threatened to overcome her, Merrill decided that she had seen enough.

Merrill broke from the trance, collapsing on the floor and panting hard. The shock of her sudden movement instantly broke the tension in the room.

Varric rushed to her side. "Daisy, you okay?"

Merrill tried get up, but felt faint. Varric caught her before she collapsed again and had her sit between his knees, her back against his chest. Aveline went to fetch her some water, whilst Anders checked over Hawke again.

"This is old, old magic," Merrill said, breathlessly. "But I think I know what happened to Hawke."

"Drink, Merrill," insisted Aveline, making her take the cup. Merrill brought it to her lips and began to gulp, until Anders chided her:

"Small sips."

"What happened?" asked Varric, once Merrill had finished the water and calmed down.

Merrill explained the vision and the four specters with their overwhelming auras of emotion. "The sensations I felt – doubt, rage, despair – were nearly too much."

"What sort of a curse is this?" asked Fenris.

"Based on what I've seen and the blood ritual that you described, Hawke has been imprisoned in the Fade." Merrill reached under the bed to retrieve her book, which had been thrown under there when she collapsed. She found another section and pointed at a passage, "There are stories of corrupted Dreamers able to do such things – create prisons within the Fade to trap their enemies – but it was only ever done whilst the victim was sleeping, never awake and never with a ritual."

"That mage boy we helped - Feynriel," Anders remembered, "He was a Dreamer, wasn't he?" Merrill nodded.

"So what about these four specters?" asked Aveline. Are they some kind of sentry to keep Hawke subdued?" suggested Aveline.

Anders looked aghast. "This isn't subdual. It's torture! Whoever ordered this curse wanted her to suffer."

"But who?" asked Aveline.

Varric shrugged. "Could be anyone. Hawke's made a lot of enemies over the years. Is there anything more you can tell us, Daisy?"

"The specters seem to be a crucial part of the spell, but I can't be sure unless I -"

"VEHENDIS!" Fenris slammed his fist down on the table, his brands flashing with anger. He was sick of hearing them talk. They had achieved little and were revisiting and speculating on what was already known. They needed to act for Andraste's sake!

"You didn't let me finish, Fenris," huffed Merrill. "What I was going to say was that there may be a way to remove the curse."

"Is this why you asked me to retrieve the blood mage's basin from the Estates?" Aveline gestured the wrapped-up ceramic on the table, and Merrill nodded.

"It contains the physical remains of the spell. When someone is bitten by a snake, knowing which snake it is makes it easier to treat the poison." She stood up shakily, aided by Varric, and went to the table. She picked up the basin and unwrapped it. "I can use this, along with a few other components, to send three of you into the Fade to retrieve Hawke. It's similar to the ritual that Keeper Marathari used to help you rescue Feynriel."

The rest of the group looked to each other, nervously. Of the group assembled, only Fenris and Anders had ventured into the Fade with Hawke to save Feynriel's life. Justice had taken full control of Anders, granting him some protection from the influence of the demons, whilst Fenris and Isabela had given in to temptation. It was a big risk, and they did not have the luxury of Marathari's experience to aid them.

None were more surprised that Merrill when Fenris stepped forward and said, "Send me."

Encouraged by Fenris's leap of faith, Varric also volunteered. "I trust you, Daisy. You know what you're doing."

Anders and Aveline looked at each other, deciding who should be the third. "She and Bethany are the sisters I never had. I will not stand by and allow her to suffer in this way," the guard captain said.

"I understand, Aveline. Though I would gladly venture into the Fade again for Hawke, I think that this time I will be more use here."

Merrill laughed nervously, and began to babble. "Right, we need to get started. I'm surprised actually– I mean, I've never done this before, and I'm not even sure it'll work, but it's a chance, isn't it?"

Fenris rolled his eyes, whilst Aveline put her hands on Merrill's shoulders. "Relax. You'll be fine. Just get everything ready and we'll do the rest."

Merrill took a deep breath, and then began gathering what she needed. She placed the basin back on the table and retrieved three lyrium potions from her pouch and an additional two from Anders. She uncorked the vials and poured them into the basin. She then retrieved a small dagger from her belt and pricked the tip of her finger and added a single drop of blood to the basin, the mixture sizzling loudly as it made contact.

"I need a drop of blood from each of you," she said, addressing Fenris, Varric and Aveline. "You'll then want to make yourselves comfortable. When I add the last drop of blood from Hawke, I'll have to begin the spell."

One by one, they compiled, pricking a finger and squeezing a drop of blood into the basin as Merrill had done. Meanwhile, Anders set about gathering pillows and blankets from the other rooms. He laid them out on the floor as makeshift bedrolls. Fenris and Aveline then helped each other to remove their armour, as lying down in plate was not very comfortable. Varric removed his long coat and wrapped it around Bianca. He lovingly stroked his adored crossbow before placing her gently in an empty chest that Fenris kept in a corner. Once they were ready, the rescue party lay down and waited.

Merrill approached the bed where Hawke lay, dagger and basin in hand. "I don't know what you will face. Sloth demons can be elaborate with their traps."

"How will we get back?" asked Varric.

"If you break the curse, you should all return to the waking world, I think," Merrill explained. "If Hawke should- if the worst happens, you all may be trapped in the Fade."

"Understood," said Fenris.

Anders wished them luck. "Maker watch over you."

The last thing Fenris saw was the blood drop falling from Hawke's pricked finger into the basin. There was a loud hiss, followed by the sound of Merrill chanting. A thick, white fog appeared before his eyes, and then … nothing


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Almost as quickly as the darkness had come over him, it faded and Fenris slowly opened his eyes. His head felt heavy, like the morning after a night of too much wine. He pushed himself up on his elbows, only to lie back down again with his eyes shut. He felt a strong hand take his and help him up. He opened his eyes to a blurred vision of Aveline, her hands on his shoulders to steady him. She was speaking, probably asking him if he was all right, but he didn't catch the words. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook off the disorientation. Upon opening them again, he looked around them, taking in the green fields that surrounded them. Through the haze of the Fade, he could barely make out a small village in the far distance, and a large, foreboding gate a short distance ahead of them. He assumed that it was the gate of which Merrill had spoken.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that we were in Ferelden," said Aveline, as if she had read his thoughts. "This place feels so familiar, and that village," she pointed to the cluster of buildings in the distance. "I think that's Lothering."

"So, you think we're in Hawke's old backyard or something?" said Varric.

Aveline nodded. "We should take a look around."

Fenris pointed to the gate. "I think we should start there, but stay on your guard. We are in the Fade, and I do not trust anything here."

Cautiously, the three companions approached the gate. It was quite unlike any other gate that any of them had seen. It was made of twisted, gnarled metal with sharp spikes, like a thick briar. Peering through the gaps, none could see what lay beyond as a swirling black fog obscured all view.

"I'm no expert on the Fade, but my guess is that we have to go in there," said Varric.

"How so?" Aveline asked.

"Trust me. I've told enough stories in my time to know that dark and foreboding is where the action is. I'll try to find a way to get it open."

Whilst Varric investigated the gate, Aveline and Fenris kept watch. At first glance, the dwarf could see no sign of a lock or handle that would allow them to enter. He probed further, looking for a hidden catch or pinhole lock. After several minutes of searching, he growled loudly in frustration.

"MOTHER-NUGGER! I can't find any way to open this damn thing! No sign of a lock or anything."

"This is the Fade. No doubt things are not what they seem," said Fenris.

"No shit, Broody," he huffed. Aveline was about to open her mouth to make a suggestion when a small voice behind them caught their attention:

"You shouldn't go in there. It's a bad place."

The three companions spun round to see a little girl standing in front of them. She looked no older than seven or eight years old, with black hair and blue eyes. The little girl looked startled,

"Err … hello," she said. "Mama said I shouldn't speak to strangers, but you look like you're lost. Please don't be angry."

Aveline sheathed her sword and shield. "We're not angry. You just scared us, that's all." She gestured that Fenris and Varric follow suit.

"We're definitely lost," said Varric, obliging Aveline's non-verbal request. He glared at Fenris, who had stubbornly kept his sword by his side and was eyeing the little girl suspiciously. Varric could see that the little girl was on the verge of running scared, so he nudged Fenris hard in the ribs to get him to put the sword away. Fenris scowled, then relented. "Can you tell us how to get through the gate?"

The little girl's eyes widened and she looked worried. "You don't want to go in there," she said. "Bad things happen in there."

Aveline knelt down in front of the little girl so that she was eye level with her. "What bad things?"

The little girl looked around, as if she was scanning for someone listening or watching. She then beckoned them all closer, forcing Fenris to kneel beside Aveline. (There was no need for Varric to kneel. The girl was only slightly shorter than he.) When she had them gathered round, she leaned forward and whispered; "There's bad ghosts in there. They watch and listen, and if you're not careful they take you away forever!"

"We're looking for our friend," said Varric. "We think she might be trapped behind that gate."

"A lady got dragged through the gates," she said. "She was very pretty. She was wearing armour. I think she was a Knight, but she looked scared. Is she your friend?"

Aveline nodded. "We came to help her, so that's why we want to get through the gate."

"If you can help us, we would be very grateful," said Fenris. He used a softer tone. He still didn't trust whatever it was pretending to be a little girl, but playing along with it was helping them gain information, albeit in small pieces.

The little girl looked at Fenris, examining him intently. Her eyes moved over the markings on his face, neck and arms. Slowly she reached up a small hand and placed it on his cheek. Though he would feel uncomfortable under such scrutiny by any adult or child on the street of Kirkwall, Fenris felt oddly at ease. He could not shake the feeling that somehow he knew this little girl.

"You have a sad face, but you are a nice man, just like Papa," the little girl said after a moment. "Papa might know how to open the gate. Wait here while I go get him." The little girl then sprinted away from the party, towards the village.

Varric chuckled, as Fenris stood upright. "Nice man, huh? I think you have another addition to your fan club, Broody."

Fenris scowled and cast his gaze to the small figure running off into the hazy distance.

A short time later, the three companions could see the little girl returning, dragging someone behind her. From what they could make out, he was a tall man with brown hair and a beard. He wore the robes of a mage and carried with him a staff, which instantly set Fenris on edge again. As the pair drew closer, they could hear the little girl shouting excitedly, "I brought Papa!"

"Scamp, head back home. Your Mother will need you to help bathe the twins," said 'Papa' in a baritone voice, patting 'Scamp' on the head.

"I hope you find your friend," said Scamp. She waved before turning to run back to the village. Papa chuckled. He then bowed slightly, introducing himself properly,

"Well met. I'm Malcolm Hawke, and I understand that you're here to rescue my daughter."

"What are you?" demanded Fenris. "What sort of demon's trick is this?"

"There is no trick. I'm here for the same reason you are – to save my daughter from her own mind."

Fenris, Aveline and Varric looked to one another in confusion, not sure what to believe. "You'll have to back up and start again," said Varric. "You're Hawke's father?"

"I think we've already established that, and before you begin with the obvious questions – yes, I'm dead; no, I'm not a desire demon come to feast on your souls; and yes, the little girl you just met was the woman you know as Hawke. Any other questions?"

The guard captain, the elf and the dwarf were dumbstruck. If they ever wondered where Hawke got her sharp wit and sarcastic tongue, they were looking at him, even if there was no solid proof that the person in front of them was actually Malcolm Hawke.

"Have you three finished gawking?" Malcolm asked impatiently. "The longer you ponder over believing me, the more difficult it will be to save my daughter."

"What do you mean?" asked Aveline.

"How much do know about what is happening here?" Malcolm asked.

"There was a blood magic ritual. Four spectres appeared and dragged Hawke to the Fade. There was a sloth demon involved too. The spectres, we reckon, are the key to getting her back," Varric summarised.

"Unless you know otherwise?" piped in Fenris.

"The spectres are part of her," began Malcolm. "All the negative emotions – the rage, the despair, the anxiety – have you ever wondered how she manages to stay so strong and positive, even when things are at their worst?" He paused for a beat, letting that snippet of information sink in. "The spectres are winning. Their decay has set in and will consume her, mind, body and soul. This curse will banish her spirit to the Void for eternity." He gestured the darkness beyond the gate. "What you see there is the only the beginning. There is great strife within her mind. Neglected feelings of doubt, desire, fury and, the most dangerous of all, despair." He turned and looked sadly towards the village in the distance. "The little girl you saw is all that's left of hope in this place. She represents the light in my daughter's heart. She keeps this part of the Fade from becoming total anarchy, though I fear that if we don't act soon, this place will disappear. And so will she."

It took a moment for these words to sink in. In all the time that Hawke had spent leading their little group, or protecting the city, she had ignored her own dreams, ambitions and fears. She put everything to one side to be a strong leader; a sturdy rock for them all to cling onto, and it was being used to destroy her. They had to choose – trust this supposed manifestation of Malcolm Hawke to help them, or find another solution and risk losing Hawke altogether.

It was Fenris who broke the tense silence, "What must we do?" It was a leap of faith on his part, but there was little choice.

"I will dissolve the gate so that you may pass through into the realms of the spectres. You must help my daughter confront each one. When they are all defeated, the ritual magic will be broken, and I will be able to lead you all from this place. I can accompany into the first realm and help you pass into the next, but that's the limit of my power."

"Can you give us any advice?" asked Aveline.

"Each spectre will have its own tricks and surprises for you to contend with. Just remember your friendship with my daughter and the solution to beating each will become apparent. Just beware of the final spectre - Despair. Despair is the strongest, most prevalent of the four spectres that consume her. It will be the most difficult to defeat."

"We're ready," said Aveline.

"As we'll ever be," added Varric.

Malcolm Hawke stood before the gate, raised his staff and struck it against one of the gnarled bars The twisted pieces of metal slid apart, clanking and grinding, until a doorway appeared.

"I can't keep it open for long, so we'd better hustle," said Malcolm. Aveline and Varric approached the opening and stepped through into the swirling black fog together.

As Fenris was about to step through, Malcolm stopped him. Fenris opened his mouth to protest, but the mage raised his hand to halt him. "My daughter loves you, and I can tell you love her. When you get her out of this, make amends. She needs you more than she'll admit."

Fenris had no time to respond as he was hurried through the gate, with Malcolm right behind him. He made it through just in time to see the gnarled metal knot together behind him. He stumbled through the black fog for what seemed like hours, when he suddenly found himself stepping out onto a solid, rocky surface. His eyes adjusted to the light and he saw Aveline and Varric in front of him. He looked around and discovered that they appeared to be standing atop a mountain where the wind was howling furiously around them, buffering them from side to side.

"Can you hear that?" shouted Varric above the noise of the wind.

"Hear what?" asked Fenris, his white hair blowing into his face, making it difficult to see.

"_I'm not worthy to be called a champion. I'm not a leader or a role model. I should never have accepted this honour..."_

"That."


End file.
